


A Room of Our Own

by Port



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 15:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14452308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Port/pseuds/Port
Summary: The First Order attacks the D'Qar base early, and Poe must get Finn to safety, any way he can.





	A Room of Our Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akaparalian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaparalian/gifts).



They had expected the First Order to come for them, but in the near future, not a mere fifteen minutes after the Millennium Falcon shrank into a clear blue sky, vanished into relative safety. After seeing Rey and Chewbacca off, Poe hadn’t even made it back into the base when the alarms began to blare and chaos took over. He spun and squinted upward, spotted dark bulks in an atmosphere that had only moments ago seemed so innocent. Star Destroyers, possibly a Dreadnaught.

The rest was a rush for his X-Wing, and then for space, and then for battle with a great number of TIE fighters. That had been an hour ago.

Poe climbed out of his ship, utterly disgusted to be on the ground while his squadron was still up there, living and dying. He knew he was lucky to be alive, that the fire he took only resulted in mechanical problems and not an explosion, but still. BB-8 dropped down from its spot, squawking in shared outrage. It was a worry-wart, but Poe suspected it liked dogfights as much as he did. 

“Come on, we’re out of fighters but I think we can rig up that messed up one in Hangar 8 to do some damage.”

BB-8 made a series of noises.

“We’ll hop on a transport as a last resort, okay?”

He was scanning the landing field and pleased to see it mostly clear of ships and stragglers. Almost everyone had gone up, covered by the X-Wings and the ground-to-space ion cannons. Across the field, a number of ships were still being boarded by people rushing for their entrances, but it was strangely quiet. Poe found himself doing a mental headcount: the General and her advisors had made it past the blockade safely, thank the Force. He had his earpiece in and could hear his pilots signing off before heading to lightspeed, away from the fray. It sounded like they didn't need him after all, but maybe the remaining transports needed an escort.

He was running to the nearest one when a converted cargo vessel caught his eye. “What the hell? Is that the med-evac?” A dingy cruiser with orange markings was sitting not far from the base compound itself, ramp down, nobody in view. They had done enough evacuation drills that he recognized which ship had been designated for the patients in their infirmary.

He ducked inside, BB-8 following him up the ramp, and looked around in growing dismay at the sick and injured people lying on the floor or sitting awkwardly on the benches, surrounded by medical droids doing their best to help and not harm in the cramped setting.

“You guys aren't out yet?” he blurted before he could think better of it. The last thing these people needed was to get the idea that they should be panicking. It was remarkable that weren’t already. “Who's in charge here?”

“Dr. Kalonia,” someone said, pointing down a narrow corridor. “She's talking with the pilot.”

“Stay put, BB-8,” Poe said, then stomped down the hall. Faintly, from outside, he heard a growing whine of engines and hoped that was their own side and not the other. Kalonia and the pilot, a guy Poe recognized by sight but not name, were having a conversation in sharp whispers. 

“What are you still doing here?” Poe demanded. “Is Finn on board?” He hadn’t seen his friend anywhere, but it was a big ship.

Kalonia and the pilot broke apart, startled. The doctor collected herself efficiently. “That’s what we’re discussing. The motivator on Finn’s stasis unit malfunctioned.”

Poe froze and must have looked as aghast as he felt because Kalonia quickly explained, “The unit itself is still functional. Finn is still healing. But the broken motivator means we can’t move the unit.”

The motivator was for the wheel assembly on the stasis unit, not the part that was keeping him alive, Poe repeated to himself, equal parts relieved and embarrassed. “Wait, so you just left him inside? The First Order’s gonna be here any minute!”

As though to punctuate that statement, a series of sonic booms made hearing impossible for many long seconds. Down the corridor where the wounded were waiting, people began to make noises of fear and panic. 

“I want to wait for that one guy,” the med-evac pilot said, and weird, but Poe recalled his name in the middle of everything happening. Coron, if he wasn’t wrong. “I really do, but if we don’t leave, we’re dead.”

Poe hated Coron now, but he had to agree. If they waited they were dead.

“He’s right, Doctor. I’ll take BB-8 and fix the motivator. We have a ship in Hangar 11 that the three of us can use to escape.” He touched her shoulder briefly, trying to reassure when he saw her look of consternation. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

She frowned, and he recalled their conversation days ago, when he’d returned to base beaten and dirty, and she’d taken care of him, lied to the General about his fitness to return to duty. She didn’t say anything now, but he read what she wanted to ask: How long can you keep going like this?

~~

Poe ran hard toward the main compound, for once grateful when BB-8 surged past him. The little droid could hustle. Behind him, the med-evac was already shooting into the sky, the ramp barely closed when they had lifted off. He silently wished for the Force to be with them. 

Suddenly the ground shook and a rumbling boom rattled his eardrums. Probably TIE fighters targeting the ion cannons. Any remaining transports would need to take their chances getting past the Star Destroyers and Dreadnaught waiting in orbit. 

Finally, he hit the main compound and pushed past the doors. It was gratifyingly quiet; Poe didn't know what he'd do if he found anyone looking for a transport. The ship he had in mind only had room for two people and one droid.

Another sadly familiar whine sounded from up above. Poe swore. Those weren't X-Wings circling the base. Any minute now this place would be swarming with stormtroopers securing the compound ahead of First Order officers. They would be looking for anything useful the Resistance had left behind, data files, maps, clues as to where their other bases were and who their operatives were. It had been Leia's job to take care of transferring or destroying that intelligence, and Poe trusted she had done it right. He was almost to the infirmary.

As he approached the big double-doors, he heard BB-8 in conversation with another droid. Poe's Binary was good enough for him to recognize when medical terminology was being used, but not to understand the terms very well. He skidded to a halt inside the doors and immediately saw Finn's stasis unit, his friend lying peacefully inside while electronic readouts blinked placid green and yellow. Poe turned to BB-8. “Ready?”

Repairing the motivator was relatively easy compared to fixing an X-WIng, but several times he had to send BB-8 for replacement parts stored around the infirmary, and one time he himself had to go salvage a part from an unused unit. It was too time consuming even for his steely nerves, but finally he was able to use the remote control to make the unit move in any direction.

Poe laughed in relief, feeling oddly as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. He patted the plastic cover over Finn’s face and then slumped down, leaning on it for support. “I really hope I can tell you about this one day.”

Poe looked around wearily. He had been hearing strafing fire for some time; the TIEs were systematically destroying any ships left on the landing field, probably including the X-Wing he had abandoned. The ship he had in mind to escape was secure in Hangar 11, though, which was beneath the main building he was in and probably safe for now. If he could get Finn there and make a few repairs on the ship, then maybe he could slip past the First Order and meet up with his people. 

Grimly, he tapped the clear cover of Finn’s unit for luck and directed it into the corridor, BB-8 in the lead with sensors extended. He noticed the medical droid BB-8 had made friends with following them and felt a pang. Not all droids could be included in an evacuation; there were just too many, and not enough room on the ships. The ones the left behind would be interrogated and probably memory-wiped and repurposed by the First Order. The thought brought out a cold sweat down his back.

They had gotten Finn down a couple halls toward the little bay when an explosion rocked the floor and shook plaster down from the ceiling. Poe swore while BB-8 whistled in dismay. “Yes, I know they're here,” Poe said, wishing he could be cooler about this and trying to estimate how long it would take them to get the stasis unit to the bay at the rate they were going. It was slow and awkward, and once they hit the bay, he and BB-8 would need to take time to make the small but essential repairs that would get the ship into the air.

Distantly, he heard the regular clack of many booted footsteps and knew their time was up. He looked into the unit at Finn, and had the wild thought that Finn probably wouldn't feel a thing if he arranged it so that they weren't captured alive. He didn't think he could be a prisoner of the First Order again, not again.

BB-8 clicked sharply, getting his attention. “What is it, fella?”

~~

BB-8 and the medical droid had promised that the room was well-hidden, and they were correct. Poe had had a liaison once in this storage room and never noticed the door set into the wall. Then again he had been distracted. He had to move some furniture and boxes to get to the door, and then he had to look around for the release that would unlock it, since no one had known to rewire this space when the Resistance moved in. He pushed the sliding door open and peered into the hidden room for only a moment before going to Finn's unit and dragging it inside. Then he left his friend in a corner and went to help the medical droid as much as he could to move furniture back into place. He put his hand on the droid’s top, near where one appendage joined the conical body.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I… I’m sorry, just thank you.” Usually he had all the right words, but the droid’s sacrifice had undone him.

The droid beeped at him in Binary to get inside the room and close the door so it could finish piling supplies and furniture in front. Poe did as directed.

After the door slid closed, he turned around and checked on the little space. BB-8 clicked very quietly, its head swiveling as it too took in their hiding place. The walls were of modest clay, like the rest of the original structures the Resistance had found and renovated for their own use. The original builders seemed to have abandoned this planet at least a decade ago, leaving behind frankly useful compounds all over the planet, each in a scenic spot. Poe liked to think they had been used as campgrounds or retreats. Hopefully, if the original builders ever came back, it would be long after the First Order had been defeated.

Light came in through a little skylight in the ceiling, which Poe frowned at until finally deciding it was too small and clouded to attract attention from above and give them away. The sunlight it let in was pale but strong, and the walls were light-colored enough to prevent a feeling of murkiness. Good enough, Poe thought, and went to check on Finn.

Finn's mouth had opened, the only change Poe could determine. BB-8 interfaced with the unit and confirmed that Finn was in stable condition, and that the unit was still functional. Poe gave BB-8 an absent pat at that news, then jerked as the sound of boots on tile echoed into their cramped space. BB-8 went very still, but Poe padded silently to the door and pressed his ear to it. For a moment, he heard nothing, then a radio squawked, making him jerk. He held his breath, listening as a stormtrooper gave a report.

As best he could tell, they were right outside, but only exploring, not yelling and scrambling to unblock the door to their hiding place. Poe held his breath, waiting for them to leave. Then a muffled voice asked, “What's this medical droid doing here?”

Their friend had promised to power down and pretend to be in storage until it was safe. It only now occurred to Poe that it might look suspicious for a droid to be kept so far from the medbay, and amid non-robotic supplies as well. Only some vague sounds came for a minute, then a voice said, “Droid, go report to our command.”

The medical droid responded the affirmative in Binary, and Poe heard it roll away. Soon he heard footsteps trailing away too. Quietly, in case someone had stayed behind for some reason, Poe walked to the far wall and sat down on the floor. He was surprised to find his blaster already in his hand; he couldn't remember pulling it out.

It was a long few hours before either he or BB-8 felt safe enough to talk, and then they did so in low tones. BB-8 reported that it could detect First Order activity all over the compound and around it, so it looked like they were in the room for the duration, if they were lucky and didn't get caught first.

“How are you holding up, little guy?” Poe asked. He had noticed the light dimming and realized night would be coming soon. Because of the skylight, they would need to sit in the dark to avoid drawing attention from the air. 

A long stream of Binary let Poe know that his friend was worried but ready to do whatever it took to protect Poe and Finn. “Thanks, BB,” Poe said fondly. “But it's not gonna come to that. I'll keep us all safe.”

The thing was, he really thought he could do it. A base crawling with First Order goons and their ships standing guard in orbit; only a malfunctioning ship sitting in a hangar beneath them for escape; his friend quiet and vulnerable in a plastic case…. The odds were almost as bad as they had ever been, and Poe wondered if this was it, if this was him cracking up, finally losing touch with reality after one too many close calls. Kalonia had used the word trauma to describe what had happened to him, as she bandaged him and applied salve. That was surely an overreaction, though deep within him some mindless agony had calmed to hear it named.

After a time, he fell asleep against the wall, lulled by the little chirps BB-8 made to itself.

_They raced down the corridors of the D’Qar base, lights flickering, Finn wearing only his blue scrubs. The material had been surprisingly soft when Poe had helped his friend out of the unit, a shock to his skin that hadn’t been touched with kindness since Kalonia fixed him up._

_Behind them, stormtroopers ran shockingly fast after them. Finn grabbed his hand, pulling him. He spoke, something important, meant only for Poe, only to be drowned out by the report of a stunner. They both fell, BB-8’s vocal dismay following them to the floor. He should be unconscious, but instead lay frozen with his eyes open as they dragged Finn away, his inert body disappearing into a sea of white armor to perhaps become one of them again._

_Poe lay unmoving for a long time, struggling to stand or even get his arms up. Stormtroopers milled all about him, then scattered. A figure in black approached and put gloved hands on either side of his head, then applied pressure just so. Poe’s head split like a melon._

He sat straight up with a cry, breathing hard. It had obviously been a dream, but he was uncomfortable with sweat, his blood up from panic. That never happened to him. He wished he could take a shower and go pester some other pilots, or put in some hours upgrading his ship. But the ship was wreckage on the landing field at this point, his pilots all safely evacuated, the ones that had survived the most recent battles anyway.

He took so long calming himself down that it was long minutes before he looked up and noticed Finn sitting on the edge of the stasis unit, unclad feet hanging just above the floor. He was wearing scrubs; a part of Poe’s mind flashed back to the dream, wondered if they were soft. Finn watched him with steady eyes. The light was a dim yellow coming in from the skylight; it must be just sunrise.

“When did you wake up?” Poe asked. He wanted to stand up and embrace his friend, but he felt oddly weak, and he was also a little afraid he was still dreaming. 

Finn shrugged and slid off the stasis unit, leaning against it when his feet met the floor. After a second, he stood on his own without trouble. “It was still dark. BB-8 said hello. Or I think that was hello. I need to learn Binary.” He walked the short distance to Poe and sat heavily beside him, close enough for their hips to brush. Poe automatically threw an arm over his friend’s shoulders, and Finn settled a little.

They didn’t speak for a long time, long enough for Poe to finish calming down. He should be happy Finn was awake, but all he felt was gladness and relief. Happiness, usually so accessible to him, seemed out of reach.

“I see that we’re in a small, locked room,” Finn finally said.

“Oh,” Poe said, realizing what it must seem like. “Don’t worry, it’s not a cell. We’re hiding from the First Order on D’Qar. They’ve captured the rest of the base.”

Finn turned and looked at him. “I guess I won’t worry, then?”

Poe nodded and then filled him in on the rest. Finn had a lot of questions about Rey, a lot of concerns about her, which made Poe’s admiration for his friend grow even more. Poe did his best to reassure him. Out of all of them, Rey was probably in the most enviable position, off on an adventure to find a lost Jedi Master, and not fleeing from an enemy.

“Wait,” Finn said after Poe had told the rest of the story. “I can read between the lines here. It sounds like you stayed behind to help me even when you could have escaped with the med-evac.”

Poe was affronted. “What the hell would that make me?”

“Sane,” Finn countered. Somehow, that struck Poe silent. “You realize that if the First Order doesn’t find us first we’re gonna have to stay in this room until they’re called away to kill people on some other planet?”

“Nonsense,” Poe said. “We can escape under their noses, especially now that you’re up. See, there’s a ship in the underground hangar. We sneak out to it, fix the engine--”

“Fix the what-now?”

“Well, the engine was malfunctioning, that’s why it’s down there. It was awaiting repairs.”

Finn gave Poe a long look. “Okay, I know we escaped from a Star Destroyer against all odds, then survived a crash into a hellish wasteland, and you seem to have made it through an attack on a planet-killing super-station mostly intact, but I think this is where we need to draw the line. You are not immortal, and neither am I--” he spoke over Poe’s attempted interruption to add, “--and neither is BB-8.”

Poe looked over at the little droid resting in a corner, saw its head swivel away as though avoiding Poe’s eyes.

“Come here, BB,” he murmured, gratified when it rolled quietly over and bumped his knee. Poe patted it reassuringly. “Okay, so you play dirty,” Poe said to Finn. “But I still think--”

Finn twisted and leaned in, and a moment later, their lips were pressing against each other. Poe’s mouth had already been open in mid-word; now he closed it around Finn’s bottom lip, sucking and asking for entrance to his mouth with his tongue. Finn opened for him, and the next few minutes were tactile bliss. Eventually, Finn cupped the back of his head, fingers sending shivers across his scalp, and pressed him to the floor, settling as a heavy, comforting weight on top of him, pressing and rubbing in all the right places. Poe found his shirt open, his belt undone, Finn’s shirt off completely. Everywhere they touched was warm and infused with want. Then Finn pressed a knee between Poe’s legs and they jerked and undulated together, Finn’s mouth sucking deliciously on Poe’s neck, to the very end.

Poe kissed Finn sweetly before allowing him to roll off, but Finn didn’t go far. He lay down close to Poe’s side and took one of his hands, clasping it firmly.

“When I said you play dirty--”

“Shut up,” Finn said fondly.

Poe felt loose and unstrung, warm and closer to accessing happiness than he had come since--since his capture. And if Finn thought they could wait out the First Order in this little room together, it probably beat getting shot or recaptured or both or even killed trying to do the impossible one more time. He squeezed Finn’s hand absently. Privately, he thought neither of them had maybe the best judgment just now, but maybe these were the wrong times for good judgment. He would wait and see.

 

End.


End file.
